


GSF New Year's Special Edition

by GleeSeasonFix



Series: Glee Season Fix Project [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Blam, Friendship, Glee Season Fix, Grief/Mourning, Hummelberry, Humour, Klaine, Multi, NYC, New Year's Eve, New York City, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:11:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GleeSeasonFix/pseuds/GleeSeasonFix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glee Season Fix continues to lead up to its premier by exploring the skipped holidays of Season 5. After Christmas 2013, now we give you a glimpse of what happened a week later on New Year's Eve.</p><p>Excited about living in the big city, Sam wants to welcome 2014 in true NYC-tourist fashion: On Times Square watching the ball drop. Rachel and Kurt come along. Blaine just wants to split a cookie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	GSF New Year's Special Edition

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. All the characters and backstories belong to Glee and its creators.  
> Written by [ Notalotgoingonatthisinstant ](http://notalotgoingonatthisinstant.tumblr.com/)  
> Beta by [ HKvoyage](http://hkvoyage.tumblr.com/) and [ Alwaysfallingforanidea](http://alwaysfallingforanidea.tumblr.com/)   
> Available translations:  
> [ Italian (nightbirdmate) ](http://nightbirdmate.tumblr.com/post/106995766601/glee-season-fix-new-years-special-edition)
> 
> Content warning: Also deals with the absence of Finn.

It had taken one excited phone call from Sam to Blaine, who was staying at the Hummel-Hudson house, asking if they could go to Times Square for their first NYC New Year’s Eve, for the idea to plant itself in Blaine’s mind. It was only right to celebrate it there, and thousands of scenarios were running through his head, making his eyes glow.

Blaine had said he would ask Kurt, already excited for it, and had put a hand over his phone and raised his voice so it would reach Kurt’s ears in the kitchen. Of course, he turned red and then pale when Kurt hesitated and Blaine remembered that this would be Carole’s first New Year’s without Finn; it was probably insensitive of him to want to drag himself and Kurt away. He immediately started apologizing to Carole, whose head had been visible through the kitchen doorway behind Kurt’s, saying that they didn’t have to go, that Sam could find other people to accompany him, and pretty much rambling for a good part of a minute.

Carole walked towards him with a tiny smile on her lips and embraced him. “Oh, sweetie, you’ve already done so much for me the past week. That angel for the tree… I don’t have words for it.”

“No, it was the least I could do, really. I’m more than happy to spend New Year’s with you and Burt, I really am.”

Carole had glanced at Kurt over her shoulder. He had stopped working on dinner to watch them with a neutral expression, softly biting his lip. She smiled at him and then back at Blaine, rubbing his arms gently.

“I think you young people have to go to that square, and be almost squeezed to death and have the best time of your lives.”

She hadn’t left much room for discussion. She grabbed Blaine’s phone and told Sam that they were in, leaving the engaged couple speechless as she made her way back to the kitchen. The two of them, and Burt, asked her millions of times if that was what she really wanted, if she wasn’t doing this for their sakes and jeopardizing her own feelings, but every time Carole told them that she wanted the kids to have fun. She had pretty much ended the matter during dinner on the 29th when she said, grabbing Kurt’s hand, “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve gotten through Christmas already. And Finn…” she took a deep breath, “He didn’t _always_ spend New Year’s with me. He spent it with his friends twice, so I’ll be okay.”

None of the three men looked very convinced, but they dropped it and bought airplane tickets for Kurt and Blaine to fly the next morning. When they had all their bags in the car, Burt waiting in the driver’s seat, Kurt tried one last time as he said goodbye to Carole.

“Are you sure you are going to be okay? We can stay. The ball drops every year. We saw it on TV last year, I’m sure Blaine wouldn’t mind –”

“Yes, I am sure, Kurt,” she interrupted, and it reminded Blaine much of the way she had spoken to the New Directions in the choir room after they lost Nationals. She was okay. She was strong enough to handle this.

Kurt sighed dejectedly, finally accepting his fate, and gave her one last hug before stepping back to let Blaine do the same. Once they were settled on the backseat, Kurt reached for his hand and squeezed it, grounding himself before he turned to the driver.

“Dad, if you guys need anything, and I mean _anything,_ at all –”

“I know, we’ll call ya, buddy,” Burt finished. “So who else is going?”

“Um, I think Sam called Rachel,” Blaine answered. “Artie said he didn’t want to ‘go through the trouble of being in a wheelchair in a square full of people’, even though I’m pretty sure there are designated areas for the disabled.”

“On Senior Ditch Day, he didn’t want to go to Six Flags with us,” Kurt added.

“And the others?” Burt continued as he took a right turn.

“Tina said she’ll be spending it with her parents,” Blaine explained. “Mercedes is stuck in L.A., working on her album. Santana and Brittany are still traveling, I think, so… I guess it’ll be just the four of us,” he shrugged. “Still, I’m super excited about this. Cooper used to make me watch the ball drop every year on TV, and now I’m going to be there, and he’s not.”

“You just like the feeling of having one over Cooper,” Kurt commented playfully, glancing out the window. “Or maybe your inner five-year-old likes the beautiful lights. Either way, wanna make a poster to show the cameras? Something like ‘Hey, Coop, I got here first!’ or you could say hi to your mom.”

The shove he earned for that wasn’t nearly as strong as it should have been if Blaine hadn’t actually considered that idea.

\------------------------------------------------

Once they were in the loft, listening to Rachel go on and on about how she would have to listen to Miley Cyrus sing, of all people, the reality of what they would be doing the next evening finally hit Blaine full force.

“I mean,” Rachel was rambling, “sure, she had some talent, but that was before she completely blew it in favor of becoming –”

“Kuuuuuurt,” Blaine’s voice interrupted her as he turned with huge, shiny eyes to his fiancé, who was seated next to him on the couch. “We are going to see the ball drop. Live.”

Kurt laughed at his excited face. “And see Enrique Iglesias perform. Live.”

Rachel joined in then to talk about the gorgeous singer before they went on discussing the performances of the night and how not to get robbed and/or stepped over in the midst of all those people.

They had a quiet dinner of Chinese takeout in the living room while watching TV before going to bed, where Blaine constantly poked Kurt and repeated in a breathy voice, “ _Kurt,_ we’re going to Times Square to welcome the New Year.” That was until Kurt gave him an ultimatum that if he didn’t go to sleep and stop waking him up, he would sleep on the couch. Blaine was silent for the rest of the night.

The three of them woke up early on the last day of the year. However, it wasn’t as if they had planned it. They had to wait for Sam to get there from his morning flight, and couldn’t leave the house. The best time to get to the square, according to the website, was late afternoon, so Kurt and Rachel weren’t in the best of moods when they were woken up by Blaine twirling around in the kitchen with the groceries they had grabbed the day before for breakfast. He was singing and dancing as if there weren’t people asleep curtains away. As a way to redeem himself, he made coffee for the two divas and served pancakes with their favorite syrups (“Yes, Rach, everything in your pile is vegan. No animal was harmed in the making of those delicious goods”).

When the two had had their morning caffeine and filled their stomachs, they forgave Blaine for his excitement, only making him wash the dishes all by himself.

Sam arrived near lunchtime, grinning madly and talking fast about how this was going to be the best day of their lives. They talked, sang, ate, (took a nap, in Kurt’s case), and did everything to occupy themselves until it was time.

It wasn’t time yet, but when the clock hit three o’clock, Sam made everybody get ready to leave.

“Hide your cell phones and money in your underwear, folks, ‘cause we’re about to hit the streets, and we’re only coming back next year.”

In spite of the corny joke that they were sure to hear more of during the day, the four young adults left the apartment excitedly. They argued a bit about which snacks to get and ended up going to the Starbucks near Times Square. It was sure to be packed, but, as Sam had said, if they were going to do this, they were doing this right and they were in it for the whole ride.

Starbucks was only three blocks away from their destination, between 49th Street and 7th Avenue, and it wasn’t as crowded as Kurt predicted. Of course, it was pretty busy, but Rachel was still able to spot a table with her hawk eyes as soon as three friends got up from it. It was almost predatory the way she pushed people out of the way and sat down territorially, smiling in triumph.

“Okay…” Sam said, shaking his head as he entered the line. He turned to Kurt. “Do you know what her order is? She doesn’t seem like she’s getting up any time soon, and when she’s got that expression on her face I’m too afraid to ask.”

“Just get her hot chocolate,” Kurt answered, standing behind him. “She’ll need sugary reinforcement to keep herself together tonight. I’m still impressed she agreed to come.”

Sometimes, the best way to respond to a comment was to let it drift in the air and not talk until its aura had completely disappeared. So Sam only nodded and fished out his wallet. He knew it was going to be hard for her. Hell, it was going to be hard for all of them. That was one of the reasons he’d wanted to do something crazy in the first place. Maybe being surrounded by a bunch of happy strangers would make them forget who was missing for a moment.

Or it’d worsen the feeling. It was the flip side of the coin, really, but he was willing to try and, apparently, Rachel was too.

The line was a bit long, so they had to wait several minutes until Sam reached the tired barista and placed his and Rachel’s orders. Blaine took the opportunity to lean closer to Kurt and asked him in a low voice, “Will you split a cookie with me? I know you usually like to have your coffee without anything else, but pretty please?”

“If this is because you don’t think you can finish one by yourself, we may need to see a doctor,” Kurt glanced at him, still keeping an eye on Sam’s back as he the blonde received the change. “They’re not _that_ big.”

“Kurt,” Blaine said. “Of course I can handle it, but I thought it’d be sweet for us to share one on what could be our last coffee of the year.” They shuffled forward in line. “It could be a muffin, if you prefer.”

Kurt thought for a moment, causing the barista to look at him questionably in a way that suggested she didn’t want them to take forever choosing. He glanced at Blaine again, catching a glimpse of those big, bright hazel eyes staring pleadingly at him, and couldn't help but smile. “Make it a blueberry one and you've got yourself a deal.”

Meanwhile, Sam had reached the table Rachel was occupying and seated himself next to her. “I got you hot chocolate, if that’s okay. Kurt said it’d be.”

Millions of memories flashed through her head. Of course Kurt would tell him to get her hot chocolate. She kind of had it coming when she didn’t ask for anything specific and she figured it was for the best. It was her comfort drink. Ever since she was having her worst menstrual cramps at the age of 13, her dads always brought her a cup of the warm heaven to make her feel better when there wasn’t much that could be done to ease the pain. She thought it was quite fitting for the moment.

“It’s fine,” she told Sam, who still looked a little bit worried, as if he might have just screwed up big time.

Once they were all seated and with their drinks (and, in Blaine’s case, with his – and Kurt’s – blueberry muffin), any remainders of the almost tense atmosphere that had tried to build itself up at the tiniest implicit mentions of Finn disappeared, and they chatted like the old friends they were.

“So, before we go into the chaos,” Sam started, “I wanna know the best part of your year. I mean,” he shifted forward in his seat, talking excitedly, “for me it was probably the last half of my senior year and getting to come to New York with you guys.”

“Still can’t believe your performance of _Copacabana_ ,” Blaine commented, sipping his medium drip.

“Still can’t believe I missed that,” Kurt added. “I wish I’d been there for Guilty Pleasure week.”

Rachel made a face. “I’m not quite sure about that. I’d much rather have been there for the Beatles double lesson. I feel like I haven’t been able to show the world how much I can do with their repertoire.”

“But you were in Lima for a bit of the Beatles week,” Blaine pointed out, “which brings me to my favorite part of the year.” He turned to Kurt with a dopey grin on his face, receiving a smile back and a hand squeeze from his fiancé.

“Well, yes, it was a great year,” Kurt agreed. After a moment, he decided to add, “In that aspect.”

Silence fell upon them, and Kurt almost wished he hadn’t said that. He didn’t want to keep bringing up their ghosts of the year. It only made him think of Carole and his dad back at home, and of Rachel, who was probably spending far too much energy keeping that smile on her face. He twisted Blaine’s wrist to look at his watch and tried to break the ice.

“Look at that! We should get going. It’s ten past five.”

The rest of them agreed with nods and they all got up, throwing away their cups and napkins and leaving the café.

“I also enjoyed Mr. Schuester’s wedding,” Blaine said as he held the door open for everyone. “Both of them.”

Their laughs would have echoed down the street if it hadn’t been swarming with people trying to get to where the four of them also wanted to go. The 7th Avenue was already free of vehicles due to the police policy for the event. The night had already reached the city, highlighting the bright lights that led their way.

\------------------------------------------------

After being thoroughly searched, they were free to enter the square and try to find the best spot, although it was filling quickly. The blue Nivea Stage stood in the middle and was already surrounded by people. They figured they’d join that crowd, only on the side of the countdown screens and the ball. Fighting a little and using Rachel’s ability to penetrate a wall of people, they reached their place.

After a few quiet minutes, Sam couldn’t hold out any longer. He snatched a Nivea blue hat from a passerby and put it on as if it were a crown.

“Guys!” he called out, shaking with energy. “This is it! It’s happening right here in front of our eyes! We have to make the most of it. We could try to sneak Rachel onto the stage, or maybe climb those red stairs or, gosh, there are so many possibilities here.”

“Ah, Sam?” Kurt said.

“No, Kurt, you gotta live in the moment, man,” he completed his words with hand gestures.

“That’s not –”

“No, no, listen. So what if this year’s been half good, half bad? We’re here to dance like crazy people and shout the countdown really loudly. I mean, you’re engaged, dude –”

“Sam!” Blaine interrupted this time and pointed to something behind his friend as the cheers around them got louder. “I think they’re raising the ball.”

Sam turned around so quickly, he might have pulled a neck muscle. And sure enough, on the high tower in front of them, one screen below a Budweiser advertisement and another more on top under a Toshiba one, there was a countdown. He caught it on 27, and, yeah, that explained why people had started getting agitated around him.

When it reached 15, a couple of fireworks shot over the sides from the top of the building, only adding to the excitement. When it got to 10, a voice over the speakers and pretty much everyone started counting down together. The screams rose as it hit zero, showing a sign of “6 HOURS TO GO!” and a couple more fireworks.

Sam was so excited that he completely missed whatever the host said and focused his attention on the top of that building, watching as someone who was probably important turned on the ball and it started to go up, backed up with a dramatic song and more fireworks. When it was finished, he whooped as loud as anyone there.

“The star of our show,” said a woman’s voice through the speakers, “and the universal symbol of the New Year is the Times Square Ball. At twelve-feet in diameter and lit with more than thirty-two thousand Philips Luxeon LEDs, it weights over eleven thousand pounds! And it’s powered with more than two thousand Waterford crystal triangles, making this the largest crystal ball in the world.”

Blaine was staring at it, his jaw dropped. “It’s the most awesome crystal ball in the world.”

“Totally,” Sam murmured back.

Kurt and Rachel shared a look and burst out laughing.

\------------------------------------------------

They managed to stay in place as they watched and danced to the performances. Truly, they were having a good time, even if it was freezing. The only disappointment was when Blaine found out that Billy Joel wasn’t going to be playing at the square as he’d read online, but in Brooklyn on live stream. However, he couldn’t stay mad for long when _You May Be Right_ started playing.

Rachel was more focused on other things.

“See those people up there?” she whispered to Kurt, pointing to the shiny billboards that covered the buildings around them, more specifically to the _Wicked_ one. “ _My Funny Girl_ picture is gonna be among them soon.”

Kurt smiled at her and pulled her into a hug. He gently rubbed her arms. “Of course it will, and I’ll be taking thousands of pictures and instagramming them.” Even though Rachel laughed genuinely, Kurt pulled away and kept her at an arm’s distance. Promising himself he’d only ask this once, he went for the kill. “You _are_ okay, right?”

The question wiped the laughter from her face, but the smile took longer to go away, as if she was slowly tearing it down until her gaze dropped. She took a deep breath and looked at the dark sky above. When she looked back at him, she had the ghost of a smile on her lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “It’s gonna hurt like hell, but I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

He left it at that, knowing that he couldn’t have phrased it better. It was going to feel like closing the door to a part of their lives that they weren’t ready to let go of yet. But then again, maybe they’d never be ready, so it was best to rip it off like a Band-Aid and be surrounded by friends – and random strangers – as it happened.

The next person to whisper in Kurt’s ear was Blaine, in the middle of the Pitbull song, as he hugged him from behind.

“What do you want to do at midnight?”

It was a simple question, non-sense to others, but Kurt knew exactly what he was asking.

Blaine was a hopeless romantic whose dream was probably to kiss his love as the clock hit twelve and he would never miss the opportunity to do so in Times Square as fireworks exploded in the sky. However, he knew that Kurt wasn’t the most affectionate person in public. Of course, no one would bat two eyelids at them – they could pretty much make out, for all those strangers cared –, but there was a kissing cam, and the event _was_ broadcasted worldwide.

It was more than that, though, Kurt realized as he saw Blaine’s eyes flicker to Rachel before staring back into his. Maybe it would be too much for her. Sure, she was going to be surrounded by kissing couples no matter where she looked, but perhaps seeing her friends doing it, knowing the background story of the couple, knowing that those two people were it for each other… it wouldn’t be good for her. Still…

Blaine was pressed against his back, head on his shoulder and arms around his waist. Kurt’s neck was starting to hurt from being uncomfortably twisted, but he held his fiancé’s gaze. “Sam’s excited and supportive enough to be with her for it. I wanna start this year with the right foot. No sad stuff in the first minute of it, just… you. No matter how many cameras are around.”

The smile Blaine gave him made all worries leave his mind for a moment. His eyes drifted shut as those sweet lips came in contact with his cheek and then whispered about how he would be held to the whole minute comment. Kurt’s roll of eyes was cut short by his own scream and jump when Blaine pressed his frozen nose to the side of his neck.

\------------------------------------------------

“Oh, my God, guys,” Sam said after the whole show of fireworks and countdown to 11pm. “We have one hour left. And I’m starving to death.”

“Cheers for us for not remembering about dinner,” Kurt commented. “I’m not moving from here to reach those restaurants.”

“See, I told you to split the muffin with me,” Blaine poked him.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Yes, because half a muffin eaten six hours ago is surely still filling my stomach.”

Rachel had gone quiet over the past couple of minutes.

\------------------------------------------------

At 11:51pm, Melissa Etheridge climbed on stage for the traditional performance of John Lennon’s _Imagine_ – the last song to be sung there in the year of 2013, right before the 60-second countdown would start.

Although Kurt would admit that he could have done a better job at singing that song, his eyes did fill with tears. When he looked at Rachel, who was latched onto his arm, he saw that she also had bloodshot eyes. But she only sniffed and hugged his arm tighter, and he placed a kiss on the top of her hair.

As the last notes of the keyboard faded away and Melissa Etheridge wished everyone a Happy New Year, the square was once again filled with cheers. Sam couldn’t stay still and kept fiddling with his giant Nivea foam hat, almost topping it over. He opened his mouth to ask Blaine for the thousandth time how much longer they had left, but was no sound made it out of his throat. That was because, a few of seconds after the song was over, the sound of a clock filled the streets and the golden numbers started appearing on the Toshiba screen, going down from 60.

“Holy crap,” Sam grabbed Blaine’s arm, not taking his eyes away from the countdown. “Dude, I’ve loved spending this year with you. Ups and downs, bro.”

“Aw, thank you, Sam-”

“Kurt,” he cut off whatever Blaine was going to add, releasing his arm and making a grab for Kurt’s, succeeding on the third time. “Sorry for still being on your couch, man, but you’re a really good roommate.”

“Thanks?” Kurt replied uncertainly.

“And Rachel,” he finally moved his eyes from the screen, which now read 42. “I’m just gonna hug you, okay?”

She smiled at him and released herself from Kurt, falling into Sam’s embrace and squeezing tight. Blaine slipped to Kurt’s side, intertwining their fingers and watching as their friends’ hug lasted until the countdown was on 31. Sam withdrew slowly, but threw an arm around Rachel’s shoulders as he turned to them.

“I wanna see smiles on all of your faces, alright? We’re turning this page together.”

The four of them exchanged looks that passed too many meanings to count. It had been quite a year. They’d lost Finn and, with him, a part of themselves. The New Directions had been disbanded after placing second at Nationals.

There definitely were reasons why they should be crying.

But also a lot of happy things had happened. The rest of the Glee Club alumni had finally graduated high school and were ready to take on the world. Mr. Schuester’s wife was pregnant, for real this time. Kurt and Blaine had gotten engaged. Brittany and Santana had gotten back together. Mercedes had a successful album. Rachel had landed her dream role in her dream Broadway show.

Yeah, they should focus on that stuff.

These thoughts ran through their heads at the same time and they simultaneously turned back to the numbers flashing on the big screen. The gigantic crystal ball was shining brightly and changing its colors as it descended on top of the building.

20 displayed on the panel now.

19 seconds until a new chapter of their lives.

18 seconds and they would have to be ready for whatever 2014 threw at them.

17 seconds for one more year in the city where dreams come true.

16 more precious seconds of 2013 to cherish.

15 seconds, and the fireworks were shooting horizontally from the top of the skyscraper again.

14, and those fireworks came with each number now.

13, and Rachel rested her head on Sam’s shoulder. He pulled her a bit closer.

12, and Kurt was cutting off circulation to Blaine’s hand.

11, and everyone in the square sucked in a breath of cold air to start counting out loud.

10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1

The first thing Kurt heard in the year of 2014, above the loud screams, firework explosions, blown confetti, and the first notes of _Auld Lang Syne,_ was Blaine’s whisper of “I love you” before they dove into the kiss, pulling each other into an embrace.

Kurt tried to keep his promise of a one-minute kiss, but he completely forgot how to time and count seconds in his head, too overwhelmed by everything he was feeling. This was fitting for him. Finn had been on his mind for the last ten seconds of the year, monopolizing his thoughts. However, when the clock had hit midnight, he had forced those thoughts out and focused on the love he still had by his side. He had meant it when he’d said he wanted to start this year the right way. Holding his brother close at heart, but moving forward towards his future.

They only broke apart when they heard Sam shouting at a cameraman, who was obviously too far away to hear him, saying that he should film his favorite gay couple. As predicted, the man didn’t acknowledge that request and kept on filming the couples near him.

“No, guys, c’mon,” Sam said once he saw they’d stopped kissing to look at him. “We could get this on tape. It’s freaking cute. To, like, show your kids someday.”

Kurt bit his lip to hold back laughter, and Blaine was fisting Kurt’s jacket as he dropped his head to his fiancé’s shoulder, chuckling. The sound of the night, though, was Rachel’s laugh, which broke their bubble of staring at Sam and had the four of them cracking.

If Rachel was okay enough with 2014 to laugh so hard so early on, then it would definitely be a good year. As long as they had each other. And they would always have each other.


End file.
